Tuesday, October 27, 2009

From the BSNYC Culture Desk: "It's About the Bike" Auction

While I usually commute by bicycle, once in awhile I will use New York City's public transit system instead. Generally, it takes a pretty severe confluence of circumstances to get me to do this, since when it comes to transportation I'm a bit of a control freak and get very, very impatient when subject to delays which are beyond my control. While rain or foul weather by itself is usually insufficient to force me into the time-sucking grip of the MTA, it does occasionally play a role in my decision-making, and if other factors are involved as well then the addition of water can sometimes drive me underground. Today was one of those days.

While riding the subway does provide me with the opportunity to catch up on my subway advertisements, it also deprives me of seeing New York City's street life unfold before my eyes. However, today's ride did at least provide one photo opportunity in the form of this decidedly non-Motörheady looking person engrossed in a "Rolling Stone" article about Lemmy Kilmister:

As an unabashed Lemmy fan, the article caught my eye halfway across the train car. Unfortunately, the reader did not seem pleased to encounter a kindred spirit. Instead, he seemed rather nonplussed:

The first bike I saw was the one which was stolen and subsequently recovered during the Tour of California, on display in the lobby:

While it's got an intriguing backstory, it's also lacking in artistic pedigree, since it was designed by Trek. As any connoisseur knows, in the art world a Trek original ranks somewhere between a velvet painting and a doorstop shaped like a dog. This could be why Sotheby's put it this one by the front door instead of safely upstairs with the rest of the bikes. (Incidentally, there are no doormen at Sotheby's. Instead, they use dog-shaped doorstops.)

Things were different upstairs though, where upon exiting the elevator I was greeted with a dazzling assembly of bikes rendered by a "who's who" of artists as well as a friendly and helpful publicist who, foolishly, let me in. (By the way, when I say "who's who" of artists I meant that literally, since I don't know anything about contemporary artists.) There was the bike by KAWS which Armstrong was riding when he broke his collarbone in the Vuelta Castilla y León:

After giving the room the once-over, I headed over to the breakfast table, where there were, among other offerings, bagels. Just as people in California spin "epic" yarns about burritos, people in New York from the five boroughs to the Five Towns rhapsodize about bagels. Sadly, the bagels at Sotheby's were far from "epic" (unless by "epic" you mean "rubbery") though I did attempt to express myself artistically through my cream cheese application:

I also tried to feed it to one of Lance Armstrong's time trial bikes:

The bike, however, must have known from good bagels, since it refused to so much as taste this one. As such, I was forced to consume it myself. Once I was finished, though, I started feeling acutely aware of the fact that I was basically just a schnorrer taking advantage of both Sotheby's and LiveStrong for free food and shelter from the rain. So I figured I'd better pretend to work--at least until the rain stopped. And I figured a good way to pretend I was working was to take pictures of the bikes. Here's one of the bone-breaker's seatpost:

Here's another one of the Rolling Death Machine:

At this point, I started contemplating just how poor a photographer I am. I also started to notice that every time I took a picture there was also a "real" photographer directly opposite me. It was then that I had a revelation. Like George Constanza, I realized the fact that I was always opposite an actual photographer clearly meant that every single photographic impulse I have is wrong. Therefore, if I followed the photographer around instead and photographed exactly what he did, my photos would be good. So that's what I did:

(The oversized bottom bracket...is artsy.)

Unfortunately it didn't seem to help.

Since I wasn't getting anywhere with my poor photography skills, I realized I was going to have to rely on my people skills (which, if you can believe it, are even worse) as well as my journalistic skills (which don't exist, because I'm not a journalist). And since this was an actual "Press Preview," some of the key people were there to talk to the "press." Here's curator (in the more traditional sense of the word) Jamie O'Shea on the right, and artist Kenny Scharf on the left:

My journalistic nose told me that beneath all the art bikes and the bagels and the charity fundraising and the ponytails there was a sordid story somewhere, and I was determined to ferret it out by getting somebody to say something bad about somebody else. I asked Kenny Scharf if he had dealt with Lance Armstrong at all in producing his bike, and if so whether Armstrong had behaved deplorably in any way. Scharf insisted he hadn't--which of course was tremendously disappointing to me as a fake journalist. Scharf then explained to me how Trek had applied the graphics to the bike, so I figured maybe Trek had screwed up somehow and that there was a story in that. As it happened, there was one thing Scharf was displeased with, which was the decals on the wheels:

Specifically, the edge was visible and did not blend into the black background:

Scharf then said he could fix the wheel with a Sharpie. At last, a project! However, I didn't have my trusty Super Staunion, and nobody else seemed to have a Sharpie either. In fact, I was halfway out the door to Duane-Reade when Scharf finally found one and got to work:

It did make the wheel look much better:

(The wheel regains its artistic integrity.)

In fact, I would go so far as to say that I am directly responsible for increasing the value of this art bike since not only does it look better but it's also hand-drawn (albeit only partially, and with a Sharpie). I like to think I'm also responsible for sending an artist into a compulsive fit, because he continued to work for quite some time:

I'm glad I didn't say anything about the frayed rear derailleur cable on the Hirst bike:

If you do end up bidding on that one, you might want to factor a new rear derailleur cable into your costs.

At any rate, having caused enough trouble, I decided it was time to head back into the rain--though I did stop long enough to copy another shot from the "real" photographer:

I stopped short of attempting to steal the bike, though. That door stop looked dangerous.

It is an axiom that no hobby should sither seek or need rational justification. To wish to do so is reason enough. To find reasons why it is useful or beneficial converts it at once from an avocation into an industry - lowers it at once to the ignominious category of an 'excercise' undertaken for health, power, or profit. Lifting dumbells is not a hobby. It is a confession of subservience, not an assertion of liberty.

Now that Heywood's cousin has come through with the funds, rather than wasting them on some time trial bike, that I can assure you is not bombproof, I have an exclusive on a bridge between Brooklyn and Manhattan over the big stinky you might be interested in?

Where’s the Y-Foil Lance rode in the Tour de California? It was adorned with epic burritos curated by Ralph Rubio. I saw Lance pull a burrito out of the frame at the top of Mt. Palomar. Was that stage on a Wedesday?

You refer to "the bike by KAWS which Armstrong was riding when he broke his collarbone," but Lance in his press release refers to it as the "KAWS 'Chompers' cycle that I broke my collarbone on in the Vuelta Castilla y León." The distinction is important, and should justify a significantly higher price for the injurious bike.

How much of the Sotheby's auction went to Livestrong? all of it, or a "portion"?FRS donates $0.10 for every $58.00 case of that fake shite.To make a difference in cancer research, you have to give until you barely notice.

I guess it IS about the bike. I know this is for a good cause, but as the the Hincapie Portrait helps illustrate, Cyclists are best at riding the bike and leaving the artistic decisions to others. Sorry that in this case, these useful tools, the bikes, were decorated by "Artists" (whose claim to fame rests more on self promotion and hype than actual physical artistic ability). This would have been so much better if the bike designs were created by professional graphic designer and not "Fine-Artists". The drawback is the fact that the auction values would be so much less.

Yeah, you call it, CommieCanuck. Livestrong is at best a borderline charity, at worst a cash cow for Yellow Monny and his compatriots. I wouldn't be found dead under a right-turning dump truck while wearing that bleeding bracelet.

The Rolling Death Machine graphics on the disc wheel are actally not-so cleverly disguised butt plugs. Thus, Lance and the future owner has extra incentive to ride fast so no one can tell they're butt plugs.

so, basically, you got invited to this media event, it was too yucky out to ride the extra distance, but really wanted to go anyway... not a bad invite for a "non-journo." also, your photos are much better than anything leonard zinn ever took. even though 35 pounds ten is tempting, i'm waiting for the 2010 doggie door stop model to drop. they've made some major changes to the mold & are now using an even higher grade of resin.

I see this nonplussed Lemmy reader on the train from time to time. You can't tell in the photo but that button on his lapel reads "ATHIEST" and he ALWAYS wears it. He's often seen with headphones on UNDER the Mets cap. Repeat: headphones UNDER the Mets cap.

Thought to point out this interesting section from page nine of the "Livestrong" Sotheby's catalog:“. . . Shepard commemorated the cyclist’s extreme dedication to the cancer mission by creating a customized Trek Madone in the now-iconic yellow and black LIVESTRONGcolorway.”

The wrong-est word they used, Snob-stealing-wise, was "creating," which should have been "curating," I figure.

Also, the above-comment about "gerund" refers to what I just used above—where one uses a verb as a noun by adding -ing: "create" becomes the gerund "creating," etc.

Thus, the apparent correction about your "dangling gerund" may well not refer to your writing so much as something in your pants? Just guessing.

"Dangling gerund" seems to be another way of decrying a solecism. A front-loaded "as an unabashed Lemmy fan" is expected to qualify the subject in the following sentence, but ends up not qualifying anything, since it's improbable that "this article" is an unabashed Lemmy fan. In terms of meaning, it qualifies "my", but the UCI ruled against that.Maybe I'm making a fool out of myself explaining this in my weak English to someone who "keep an employmentway in the publishing industry", but I'd like to take the opportunity to propose that "dangling gerund" be replaced by "solécisme". Like "domestique", "bidon" and even the misspelled "pannier", the gallicised version is hella classier.

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About Me

While I love cycling and embrace it in all its forms, I'm also extremely critical. So I present to you my venting for your amusement and betterment. No offense meant to the critiqued. Always keep riding!